


The Dance of Intimacy (1/6)

by WendyJoly



Series: The Dance of intimacy [1]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Chaptered, Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2072397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendyJoly/pseuds/WendyJoly





	The Dance of Intimacy (1/6)

**Title** : The Dance of Intimacy  
 **Author** : WendyJoly  
 **Pairing** : Guess who~  
 **Rating** : NC-17  
 **Lenght** : Chaptered  
 **Beta** : Hug and cuddle to [](http://chibipinkpetals.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://chibipinkpetals.livejournal.com/)**chibipinkpetals**  
 **Genre** : Kimono, Initiation and Love  
 **Disclaimer** : I owe nothing but Arashi owns surely my soul  
 **Summary** : Ninomiya Kazunari is an employee of a kabuki theatre, serving Aiba Masaki, an onnagata looking for the patronage of a protector. But when the Master of the Emperor’s Ohoku finally shows up, his choice is pretty surprising…

 

 

 

_ PART I _

 

 

 

 

 

_“Run Nino or he’s gonna beat us.”_

We run as fast as our skinny legs allow us to, laughing joyfully. The muddy streets are full of beggars, of men looking for work or maimed guys who came back from war without having the honor to die at the battlefield. We can see prostitutes behind wood panels selling their charms, some young men for clients who are looking for thrill. The stalls of the merchant are everywhere along the houses, displaying a patchwork of color and spreading a lot of odor in the air.

This popular district stinks of cheap perfume, smoke and sake.

Each day we struggle to not sleep outside, to have something to fill our bellies. Truth be told, we are better off than many others; those that did not know the ropes, did not know what was up or down, but we knew - we learned.

So when we’re too tired, too jaded to pursue something to eat, somewhere to sleep, we sneak inside the town’s theatre, there, were the Kabuki actors hustle around, make-up haphazardly thrown on, yet perfected by years of practice. It’s the most beautiful thing there is to look at.

We like nothing more than watching Kabuki; hidden behind tables, behind curtains; that's all we can manage each time before we are caught and kicked out. We don't know anything about it, but we can recognize what is beautiful, what seems to attract our attention.

It helps us to forget.

Helps us forget the ache of an empty stomach, the pain our feet go through bare of anything, skin broken by jagged rocks, roots, glass, and anything that got in our path. It turns our mind away from all the pain and suffering others before us have suffered; children, women, and men alike. Starvation spared no one.

Watching the Kabuki actors, I imagine what their life was like; if they had found someone that was nice enough to take care of them, someone that made life easier. At times, I crush those thoughts in an instant, snorting to myself that such things could never happen, not when they kept on performing, not here.

I am not sure if I am fortunate to have a friend - because losing someone so close becomes painful, so unbearable; and yet I know that _I am_ lucky to have one. We have each other; we depend on each other, we can believe in one another, but we both know that sometimes, there are ways that might pull us apart. It scares me at times, to have someone there one moment; what if he disappears? What if I never see him again?

His name is Masaki and we met not long after my father abandoned me, asking for forgiveness because he could not feed another mouth, not one that could work and survive on their own; how laughable, I was only seven.

 

\- * -

 

 

This time around, we found someone that needed help in the kitchen in one of the biggest inn within the district, we asked for no compensation, however, this time around, we found someone that may have taken pity on us. Two scrawny boys, so malnourished, weak, and pathetic.

We’re to peel vegetables, wash the bowls used by guest, and in exchange, we are allowed to sleep under the tables - quite honestly it’s one of the best places we’ve been able to take peace for nights. A small meal, water and most importantly, us being able to stay together.

We work endlessly through the day and most of the night until the last guest is gone, and we then had to clean up. Wash the bowls, clean the tables, clean the floor, wash the clothes; everything seems to go on forever, until Masaki reaches over for the last bowl, wiping it carefully and setting it down.

What we both want is to be asked to stay here, to help - we don’t care if we have to break our backs, but then we would have somewhere to live, something to eat, and sleep.

By the end of the night, when I am pretty much falling asleep standing up, after being done with cleaning every corner of the inn, the owner drags us to the empty dinner room and asks Masaki to climb on a table for him to play the butai we saw at the theatre.

He accepts with a smile and I sit, totally awake now. I can’t wait to gaze at his happy face, to see him imitating those actors we love so much. He reaches over and grabs a dirty rag, covering his head as if it was a wig, just like the Kabuki actors do and he plays every role, one after another. The great aristocrat, the samurai, and the handsome boy they crave for. That’s the kind of story we love the most - we know them by heart - and each night before sleeping we play one or two stories.

When he bows at the audience, the owner applauds and laughs loudly, however, there is more than just the owner’s claps. I turn around and see that at the back of the room the owner of the theatre, Kimura-san, who kicked us out earlier, was standing there, a grin adorning his lips, a brow raised and his hands clasped together at the applause.

He goes to Masaki and helps him to get down of the table.

 

 

_“What’s your name, boy?”_

_“Masaki, sir,”_

 

 

Kimura-san stares at him, tilts his head back and forth, moves to grab Masaki’s arms, turns him around and nods.

All the while I can only stare, anxious; I don’t want to be alone.

 

Without saying anything else, he looks towards the owner and asks him to send Masaki to the theatre. Masaki surprises me, and looks at me, I can only stare at him wide eyed.

 

\- * -

 

 

It’s hard for us to imagine it’s our luck, we prefer thinking that he likes boys, it’s more realistic. We don’t sleep that night, despite our tiredness, and at dawn we’re in front of the theatre. The owner receives us and it’s surely the first time we’re allowed to come in officially. He’s very old, perhaps, 50 years old. His hair is grey and he wears his usual red kimono, his arms crossed against his powerful chest.

 

 

_“What are your names?”_

_“Masaki and this is my cousin, Kazunari.”_

 

 

We’re not really cousin but we don’t want to be apart, that’s our greatest fear.

 

 

_“How old are you?”_

_“We are 12.”_

_“You are too skinny, the both of you. I saw your act yesterday and you’re talented. I will take you under my wing and you will learn the ways to lure people, to enchant them and have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”_

_“I...and my cousin?”_

_“Your cousin can stay. He will work for the theatre.”_

 

 

I feel Masaki’s hand gripping mine and I nod; in reality it was not really a question, it was a command, and we were both willing to follow as long as we are to stay together. We don’t really have a lot of choices in our lives.

After that day, Masaki becomes an apprentice and I become a worker in the background, learning everything from setting up a theater, preparing a meal for a full house, to counting coins and the number of visitors each night.

By night, we both are led to our new room; we’re lucky to even have this, once we are done with the chores of cleaning, Masaki excitedly tells me everything he learns.

The difference between the Aragoto, the Rough style from Edo and the Agoto, the soft style from Kansai. We’re playing both, the exaggerated Aragoto style and the realistic Agoto style. He teaches me what to wear and how to apply the make-up to play the character.

Soon, he’s on stage and I don’t miss a single presentation. He promises me to become the best Onnagata of the country; he dreams of finding a protector; a provider for him - he intends to drag me with him when that happens. It’s a dream he wants to happen, he told me once that he dreams and prays that one day that will happen.

But not a second we’re naive enough to believe that his reputation could be built only in front of the red curtains of the theatre. We’re perfectly aware that every Onnagata has to open his bedroom door to clients chosen by the owner of the theatre.

We’re living in a famous brothel of the town, like every actor and we’re under the patronage of the Master of the house, a big fat man, named Goro. We’re not staying here to be protected, rather to avoid any blunder.

I have the right to sleep in Masaki’s bedroom with the other apprentices for one and only reason, and that is to watch over him.

 

 

\- * -

 

 

The very first day, as the Director was showing us the place, he asked me to take care of him, that I’ll be responsible of him and that he would punish me if he was idiot enough to betray him. Since that moment, that’s what I do and I think that Masaki should be pretty important for him to be so cautious. I don’t care about his threats since I was beaten more than once, but I care about my friend and sometimes he’s too bold, too self-confident. That’s my very fault, I’ve always over protected him and kept for myself a lot of things which happened around us in order to forfend him.

 

We’re both men now and I feel a strange change in the atmosphere around him, perhaps is it because I’m too attentive to it, though. Everybody sounds to be gentler; they are smiling as if they knew something we both were unaware of. They were never really harsh with him and not a day goes by without Masaki telling me how he’s happy to have run across Kimura-san, the theatre director. He’s not conceited, he simply likes acting, like when we were kids, he beams when he’s on stage.

I must admit that I like watching him more than anything, forgetting the time of a play that all those people are gathered in this shady area because they are only perverts searching for easy pleasure, or because they can’t live elsewhere.

It didn’t really change since our childhood, I never passed the doors of this zone, and it’s my house. It’s not perfect, it doesn’t smell good and people surely would wish to never have to live here, but I feel comfortable. Everybody knows everybody, we’re standing together and I can’t help but think that the theatre stage doesn’t stop at Kimura-sensei’s door.

The entire area is a theatre where each day, when the night falls, we’re playing a piece. The houses of pleasure, the game houses, the restaurants, the theatres, we’re here to distract the visitors good or ill-intentioned, searching for sensations of all sorts. Without us, life would be really tasteless, isn’t it?

 

 

_“There’s a very important guest at the theatre tonight.”_

 

 

Masaki is doing his make-up, a mere yukata hastily put on his bare shoulders while I’m putting in order his outfits.

 

 

_“Who?”_

_“Kimura-san told me to be ready…it’s a secret, but…come here.”_

 

 

I approach him, kneel by his side and he murmurs his secret at my ear.

 

 

_“A man of the Emperor’s Ohoku is visiting the area tonight. They said he looked for a new lover for the Emperor.”_

_“But…you don’t want to be part of an Ohoku, ne? You’re an actor and~”_

_“I’m an Onnagata! It’s a chance that Kimura kept me from men’s bed until now. I think he did it on purpose to keep me for someone important. I couldn’t have a better dream than this one.”_

_“If it works for you…”_

_“Of course, I’ll ask him to take you with me. Nothing will change; we’ll just live in a palace, surrounded by gold everywhere.”_

 

 

I smile to him, as always he’s too self-confident. I sincerely hope he won’t be too disappointed if this guy doesn’t show up, to be honest, that’s not precisely the type of clients this area is used to having. And even if he comes, will he ‘chose’ him? What this kind of man is looking for, after all, we don’t know. A plain whore? There are thousands of this kind in Shimabara, why Masaki who’s still –more or less- virgin?

I know the other actors gave him some ‘tips’ about the things their clients like in a bed. Though, he doesn’t talk about those things with me, it’s not something we share. He told me he was still untouched, that’s all it matters to be chosen, he said to me.

 

 

_“Are you hungry?”_ I ask to cut this conversation I don’t want to have.

_“No, but I’m thirsty…”_

_“I go down there, look for something to drink, tea with honey?”_

_“You’re an angel.”_

 

 

I smirk. He’s changed too; he never used this silly name, before. Angel, honey, cutie…those are words that an Onnagata use. I shrug and get down the stairs, make my way amongst the crowd already gathered inside the theatre. I avoid the usual wandering hands, and go to the kitchen where I boil water.

 

 

_“Nino can you please bring me a bucket of water?”_

_“Sure.”_

 

 

I nod to the cook and grip the big wooden bucket, then go out to the sink in the courtyard. I’m lost in my thoughts, wondering endlessly what the future will be if Masaki had to move to the Ohoku. No wonder this man won’t accept a new servant. Why should he? It’s not as if they didn’t already had thousands of failed attempts.

 

 

_“Look at what we have here.”_

 

 

My bucket is in the sink and I’m leaning against it, tiptoeing to let it down deep enough. And I had idiotically let my guard down. Something like this, so careless, so stupid - it was something Masaki often warned about. ‘Men don’t care if you offer yourself or not, all they care about is taking and enjoying themselves, promise me that you will be careful.' I didn’t fully understand until an incident happened with another worker there. With time, I grew to pay close attention to everything, small noises, sudden movements, silent areas; always, always, always; until now.

I turn around and smile self-confidently to the three men walking to me.

 

 

_“Listen, don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not a prostitute, I’m just servant in this brothel.”_

 

 

It’s obviously not the first time I have to get out of a tight spot but a simple glance is enough for me to understand they are raging drunk. Okay, they don’t give a shit who I can be, they’re just looking for someone to fuck and cooperative or not, that’s not a real problem, since they are three and…well, I’m all alone in a dark courtyard. What are my chances to survive? Zero. Usually, I have a knife on me, but, hey, who said I was lucky enough to take it with me?

I don’t really think further and I slowly step back, feeling the sink behind me, I grip the verge and sit on it without breaking the eye contact. Like dogs, if I show them my fear they will jump on me.

 

 

_“What are you doing, boy? Don’t be silly, come here. We’ll be tender with you.”_ They are chuckling grossly and the first one moves, so I climb higher, grabbing the rope.

_“I’ll jump down the sink rather than be raped by you. I swear to God I’m gonna kill myself.”_

 

 

I’m so sorry for Masaki, I sincerely hope this man from the Palace will be here tonight and will take him far away from here. He will forget me more easily.

They are moving laterally and soon one is on my left, one on my right, while the third walk on me. Militaries? They are too dumb to imagine such a strategy.

One foot in the emptiness and they run to grip my leg. I struggle like a fool but I’m already lying in the mud, one of them straddling my stomach. He’s disgusting and fat, the stench of sweat and sake so disgustingly prominent. I blame myself for this second of hesitation; I should have jumped without thinking.

I scream, but of course, no one will come, the streets are too noisy and cries are not so unusual here, it’s part of the game.

The fat guy opens his yukata and shows me proudly his flaccid sex. _“It’s all for you”_ he laughs like a demon and I feel tears on my face. Tears of anger. I escaped so many times to these kind of situations, why have I forgotten my knife this time?

 

 

_“Open your mouth, boy.”_ He says while the two others are crushing my arms under their knees _“And if you bite me, I swear I cut your throat.”_

 

 

I wished to faint at this moment, but I’m too healthy for that. I just close my eyes, as he forced on my jaws to make me open the mouth and suddenly I hear a scream. There’s a katana a few inches from my face and when I raise my gaze on the fat man, he has an incredulous look on his face. As if he’s trying to understand why a blade is going through his fat belly, but it’s not long after that he falls like a bag on the floor; dead.

A man is above me and reaches out. I grab his hand and he helps me to stand up. Behind me the two other men are lying in the mud in a pool of blood, their hands on their stomach too.

I stare at my saviour, unable to believe I’m still alive.

He’s wearing a black kimono and a samue hides the biggest part of his face, the katana on his flank has already taken refuge in its sheath. He smiles to me and I grab his hand to kiss it, my throat is too tight to let out a word.

 

 

_“Master!”_ A man walks to us and he sounds to be very…Angry? Scared? Irritated? I can’t really pick up an expression on this round face, but he’s with my savior, that’s a fact.

 

 

_“Thank you so much…”_ I barely recognize my own voice, it’s too hoarse.

_“Were you really ready to jump?”_

_“I’m not a liar, Sir.”_

 

 

He smirks once again and without there being much to see, I can only imagine that if his face were to be bear, that he could be absolutely handsome. There’s nobility in this feature, I could swear. I met a lot of people in my life and this one has obviously lived a privileged life, perhaps he was a samurai, after all, he killed these men in a blink of eye.

 

 

_“Are you working here?”_

_“I…no. I live here but I’m working for Kimura-sensei, the owner of the Kabuki theatre.”_

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Kazunari”_

_“I see. Then Kazunari-kun, I bid you farewell.”_

 

 

He turns tail and the smaller man follows him, visibly decided to not let him taking his distance once again.

 

 

_“Sir!!”_ He can’t leave like that! _“I didn’t thank you.”_

 

 

He smiles and leaves the courtyard. I avoid the best I can the three corpses and I enter the kitchen. I fall on a chair, more than I sit and tell my story to the cook. I readjust my outfit to come back to Masaki. Like always, I smile, pretending I had fallen as I was helping in the kitchen. I don’t want to worry him, tonight is too important for him to be distract. Yet, nothing happens.

 

 

_“It was probably a lie. No one came…”_

_“Next time. Keep faith.”_

_“Ne, Nino?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Will you sleep with me tonight?”_

 

 

It’s been a long time since we didn’t sleep in the same bed and I didn’t dare to ask. But tonight I need to feel someone’s warmth by my side to find sleep. When we finally fall asleep, my hand in his, I send my last thought to my mysterious savior.

 

 

\- * -

 

 

_“He chose you.”_

 

I stare at Masaki, who gripped my hand under the table to convey his joy. I’m sincerely happy for him, even if I know what comes next. You go alone, of course, you’ll have a servant, plenty of servants, but Nino, you understand….

 

_“Did you ask him if I could bring Nino with me?”_

 

Poor Ma-kun, does he really believe that the Emperor will accept his whim?

 

_“Not you. You.”_

 

I cross Masaki look of disbelief and I need a few seconds to fully realize what Kimura-san just said. I point my index finger on my nose.

 

_“Me?! W…what?!”_

_“He came after the performance and asked for Ninomiya Kazunari. I asked him twice and he repeated your name. Twice. Small, thin, with a mole on the chin. No mistake. Of course, I agreed, you will leave the town tomorrow at dawn.”_

 

The Director stands up and takes his leave without an unnecessary word. I can’t believe it, why this man chose me and Masaki…? Masaki. I turn to face him and his face is totally blank, I feel tears blurring my vision. I suddenly feel the guilt setting in. It’s his dream, not mine; I don’t want to take his place.

 

_“I’m gonna refuse, Masaki, you will go, ne? I’m gonna find Kimura-san and he will talk for us to this guy, don’t worry…”_

_“Don’t be silly. He won’t change his mind, since he chose you and no one else.”_

_“I don’t even know him, it’s a mistake, it’s-”_

_“Stop it already!”_

 

I freeze and hang my head, clenching my fist in anger. I begin to lean forward to apologize but I feel his arms around me as he takes me into his embrace.

 

_“You’ve been chosen, Nino, it’s great news. Once out there, you’ll do your best and after a moment, you will ask him to hire me, as a servant. Okay? Don’t cry, please.”_

_“I’m so sorry…”_

_“Don’t be. Just…do your best to become his favourite and I’ll do my best here. And who knows, perhaps he'll chose me the next time.”_

_“…May I sleep in your bed tonight, for the last time?”_

_“Of course. And I’ll tell you what the guys told me about the way to pleasure a man, like a real onnagata.”_

_“Don’t be silly…”_

 

I chuckle and for the last time, we’re lying down on his futon, crouching under the thick red blanket.

 

 

 

\- * -

 

 

 

_“Where are we going, Ohno-san?”_

 

For the first time of my long adventurous life, I leave Shimabara ignoring where I go. It’s strange for me, to turn back and see the doors of the quarter from the other side. I have the feeling to watch the world from a different point of view, as if I wasn’t myself anymore.

I glance at my neighbour, the so not-loquacious Ohno-san. It baffled me this morning when I recognized him at the brothel’s entrance. He barely talked to me, though, showing me plainly the horse he prepared at my intention. As if I have ever ridden a horse.

 

_“Ohno-san…where are we going?”_ Perhaps will he accept to open his mouth if I harass him enough? Or he will use this monstrously big katana to cut my head?

_“At the end of the next town there’s a hill and behind the hill, a house, that’s where we heading.”_

_“So, it’s not far?”_

_“ Yet there’s a world of difference…”_

 

A surprising smirk adorns his face and I half-close my eyes to enjoy the odors I smell for the very first time. I can’t identify them. I see, far away, a lot of women bent over in the fields, small children clinging on their back, I see birds flying and howling. There are no birds in Shimabara except the ones displayed on the stalls.

After some time, we’re passing the gate of a well-guarded propriety. I’m astonished by the scenery. A big beautiful garden full of flowers where a strong perfume floats in the air. Even if I frown because it’s dazing, I figure out that I already like it.

Ohno-san is now knocking at the door under a lustred porch. I instantly wonder how many servants could work in such a splendid place…it’s a colossal work. I don’t know where to set my stare, I have the feeling of being on the set stage of one of this butai I dreamt so much of.

We’re invited to come in and we’re settled down in a room where a man is doing a tea-ceremony. His movements are graceful and fascinating, his beautiful face focused on his task. He slides two cups of tea to us and I imitate Ohno-san when he bows thankfully. This is a bitter and strong tea, a real man one, like I never drank. I can’t help but scrunch my face and the man address me a rebuke look in response. He sips his tea and his face doesn’t move at all, he’s totally expressionless.

I could say he’s handsome but it would be so unfair. He’s captivating and leaves me speechless. His long dark hair nicely knotted on the nape of his neck, his gaze is deep and seems to fathom me subtly. He wears a blue kimono with ashy heron, with long necks, like I saw sometimes on some paintings in the pleasure house. And above all he smells divinely good, a discreet but bewitching perfume. I try to close my eyes to understand why my heart beats so fast but he speaks.

 

_“Welcome.”_ He says with a charming smile. His voice is composed and gentle. _“I’m Matsumoto Jun.”_

_“This is Ninomiya Kazunari, your new apprentice, if you accept him.”_

_“Stand up.”_ Says Matsumoto.

I do what I’m told and he approaches me, details me, turns me around several times.

_“This is a lot of work and you know I don’t take apprentice anymore.”_ I’m ready to plead my cause when he continues _“But he has something, it’s undeniable. And if the Master asks of this me personally, I can’t refuse.”_

_“He will remember it.”_

_“I bet he will.”_

 

He sits back and both of them are sipping their tea quietly, as if I wasn’t here. I was a servant a few hours ago and I don’t really know if my status changed so much since. One thing is sure, I’m not in a Palace…and this man is definitely not the Emperor, so where am I?

Ohno pats my shoulder and Matsumoto is at the door, visibly waiting for me.

 

_“I’ll show you your bedroom. Come with me.”_

 

I follow his lead and soon we’re in a huge beautiful bedroom, and the two opened panels are revealing a part of the garden full of multicolors flowers. I meet his gaze.

 

_“Matsumoto-san?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Where are we?”_

_“This is my house.”_

_“And the Palace?”_

_“The man you saw the other night asked me to prepare you. If you enter the Ohoku now, you’ll be dead in less than one week.”_

_“…Dead?”_

_“I’ll teach you. To recognize your enemies, to keep your head on your shoulders and above all, to seduce the Emperor. I’ll teach you the subtle art of the seduction, what the men of the Ohoku call the Dance of intimacy.”_

_“Are you an onnagata?”_

_“I was the Emperor's favourite, a long time ago. Now I’m retired. This house is my reward.”_

_“I’m not…I mean, I never…”_

_“Did you already act?”_

_“It happens, for fun.”_

_“So you’ll use this skill. Believe me, it’s harder to deliver a convincing performance in front of a small audience.”_ He walks to me and brushes a strand of hair naturally, making me blush idiotically. No one ever touched my face. _“For the moment, you have to rest, we’ll begin your training tomorrow.”_

_“Will he come?”_

 

He smirks amused and yet curious.

 

_“Who?”_

_“The Ohoku Master, the man who chose me?”_

_“Perhaps. If you do great.”_

 

He leaves the bedroom and I don’t see him or Ohno this day. I don’t know what they are doing but I feel strangely uneasy here.

Not a single noise, just the nature, no music, no scream, no howling, no junk seller’s yells. I’m oppressed somehow in this absolute silence and I don’t dare leave my bedroom, using it as a security perimeter. I detail the paints on the wall and if I know most of them, they are clearly from a superior quality here.

In the brothel I lived, the walls were covered by Shunga too, those erotic drawings where all kind of couples are in all sorts of positions, each one of them more fanciful than the previous one. That’s the only familiar thing in this house and I fall asleep under one of them, representing a man and an octopus doing something pretty suspicious…

 

 

 


End file.
